


Drowning

by dragontooth52



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Camp Half-Blood, Depression, Lonely Nico, Other, Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 10:06:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7753408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragontooth52/pseuds/dragontooth52
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nico reflects on himself and Camp after the Titan War.</p><p>(Note: he hasn't left Camp Half-Blood, found Hazel or Camp Jupiter yet)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drowning

**Author's Note:**

> This mightn't make much sense, and it just goes over Nico's thoughts on some things that happened to him before the Titan War. I just wanted to write something, so I haven't edited this and it mightn't be great. I was just in the mood.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: No, I'm not Rick Riordan. I wish I was, because these characters are amazing and deserve to be safe. But NO, Rick has to put them through Tartarus.

I once read that depression was like drowning, but at the same time, seeing everyone else around you still able to breathe. And I'd say that's pretty accurate, if I'm anyone to go by. Then again, I'm sort of a poster-child for depression.

My name's Nico di Angelo, and I'm fourteen. I don't look it. I'm scrawny and underweight and, if I were ever to take off my thick aviator jacket, no doubt you could count each of my ribs through my shirt. I don't know if I have an eating disorder or what, because when I went to school, years ago, I never paid attention, if they ever taught us about that. I was such a happy kid, I figured it would never happen to me.

I look pretty depressed and homeless all round, and I guess that's accurate. I do have a home, but I don't live there. And Camp... well, we'll get to there soon enough. Anyway, my hair's too long, my skin's too pale and there are dark bags under my eyes. You might think I don't sleep enough, and while I guess I don't sleep regularly, when I shadow-travel, I sleep too much.

And if all that isn't enough to look depressed, I only wear black. And I know exactly how it sounds. But once people learnt I was a son of Hades, god of the Underworld, which is pretty much literal hell, people saw what they wanted to see. And nothing I could do would change that. So I may as well play to their expectations, right?

And if you think I'm just playing up, looking depressed, but I'm not really, let's delve into my history. I was born in the 1930s. It's as simple and confusing as that. I grew up during World War Two, in Italy, and I was too young to know then, but the whole place was going through a pretty rough time. When Italy - and Germany - started loosing, my uncle, Lord Zeus, King of the gods, ordered all of my father's children to be killed. I guess, when you father Hitler himself, you've got to expect something, right?

But ALL of the children of Hades? My sister and I had never done anything. We didn't even know we were demigods at that point. So our father tried to take us and our mother to somewhere safe. A magical time stopping hotel, called the Lotus Casino. But our mother died - was murdered by 'Lord' Zeus, and Bianca and I were taken to the Lotus Casino, after having our memories wiped.

After a good eighty years inside the Casino, we were taken out and went to a boarding school, and I have to admit, those were the best two years of my life. I made a few friends, I learnt all sorts of interesting stuff, I found out about a game called mythomagic and quickly became obsessed, and Bianca and I were together - happy.

Then HE came. Sweeping into the school dance with sparkling sea-green eyes and windswept black hair. Until then I hadn't known people could be... the way I was. Until then I was normal. But then I met Percy Jackson and he swept me off my feet like he was a riptide. The next time I blinked... my sister had died on the quest he promised to protect her on. And from there, everything went downhill.

Now, after the Titan War, I'm at Camp. I don't like it, but I promised I'd stay. Why did I promise? Because when he looked at me with those big puppy-dog eyes, how could I say no? And I honestly thought I would fit in, for a while. But now, I'm ignored, unless Clarisse and the Ares cabin want someone to kick around, or the Camp wants someone to whisper about.

I'm still wondering what I did to deserve this. I've always helped the Camp when it needs. I've never done anything against them. I've figured that no one is ever going to see me as more than a son of Hades. As a depressed, alone, evil demigod. But they still smile, laugh, enjoy their Camp.

So I think drowning is a pretty accurate representation of depression. I'm drowning, but everyone else is able to breathe. Especially children of Poseidon.


End file.
